Continuity
by savanasi
Summary: Hermione Granger and Draco Malofy run into each other some 20 or so odd years after Hogwarts.  Things get a little dicey.


Disclaimer: Not mine.

A/N: Just something that popped into my head and wouldn't leave after I saw Deathly Hallows. That movie was the shiz, yo. Unfortunately this has very little to do with it. If you read it, you're a gem. Lemme know what you think!

-S

**Continuity**

_By Savanasi

* * *

_

The years had aged Draco Malfoy gallantly and as he stepped into Madame Malkin's Robes for Any Occasion on that Sunday, Hermione Granger couldn't help but notice. His head was still covered with blinding locks of platinum hair that fell over his face in youthful disarray. Behind him, a solemn Scorpius marched, his arms locked behind him and an icy smirk pulling at his lips.

Hugo was in the back, she could see him from here, fidgeting on a pedestal as an assistant charmed his robes to lengthen to accommodate his lengthening figure. She watched as he turned around to wave her over and then his face froze at the sight of the Malfoys. It wasn't quite fear that tugged at his eyes, pulling his pupils wide, but it wasn't confidence either. He seemed almost weary of the platinum pair.

It had been nearly two decades since that fateful day when Harry had ended the Dark Lord's reign and since then the Death Eater population had been all but eradicated. Yet even now they had an eerie foreboding way of popping up when you least expected them. She understood Hugo's weariness perfectly but it was an emotion of the past—it had no place in her son's present or future. They had fought long enough for that. This was a time for healing and progress.

She headed towards the back, her head held high as she breezed past the Malfoys. Draco didn't look but she saw him freeze for a second.

"Mum, I think I'm being sexually harassed."

"_Hugo_."

"I'm not joking—he definitely tightened these robes too much in the back."

"Sexual harassment is a serious matter, Hugo."

"I am serious," he replied, his cerulean eyes twinkling charmingly before he bent closer, his voice dropping dramatically, "Sirius Black."

_I'm going to kill Ron for telling them about the Marauders. I'm actually going to kill-_

"Well if it isn't Granger and her _herd_." The sinuous voice that came just above her left shoulder was just as reedy as it had been when they'd been in school. Hermione reigned in a shudder and turned around as slowly as she could, painting her face a winning shade of nonchalance.

"Malfoy." She nodded her head, curtly, before offering a benevolent smile to his child. "I hope your holidays were pleasant Scorpius."

Hugo watched her in abhorrent surprise, his mouth hanging slightly open. She could almost hear him berating her for betraying the cause or some other ridiculous self-righteous rot that Ron had instilled in him. _Prat_, she thought fondly.

Malfoy pushed his son behind him forcefully and Scorpius back peddled hastily over to his mother who was perusing in the corner. Hermione thought she saw a flash of something in his gunmetal grey irises but it was gone as soon as it had arrived.

"Don't talk to my son, _Granger_." He sneered with contempt, but she could tell from the inflection that he was really using another two syllable word.

"Of course." Hermione replied stiffly, before ushering Hugo in front of her. "Take this to dad, Huge."

"But Mum—" he protested, tossing a worried glance in Malfoy's direction but Hermione just shook her head, a confident smile on her face.

"I'm just saying goodbye to Mr. Malfoy. I'll meet you in a second." She squeezed his shoulder for good measure. He left but not without another hesitant look in her direction. As soon as he was out of earshot, she turned back to her conversation.

"I will thank you not to use that tone of voice around my children again." She issued at him before turning to leave. Iron fingers on her wrist stopped her and despite a harsh tug, they remained firmly attached.

"Still playing _bloody_ prefect, aren't you?" He intoned, tightening his grip viciously. While a lesser witch would have been nervous or at the very least alarmed that Draco Malfoy, son of the notorious Death Eater Lucius Malfoy was holding onto them, Hermione knew better. She knew Malfoy was just scared—because he had no platform, no soapbox to chant his disillusioned ideals from any more. He was the minority now and these flashes of power were all he had to grip onto. She almost felt like letting him win would have been then kind thing to do, judging by the dark bruising underneath his eyes and the wear of his cloak. The Malfoy name had fallen soon after the war, their fortunes repossessed.

Draco had married one of the last few pureblood families still touting their purity as a victory. Astoria was blue as Ron's eyes, her family old and powerful. But nothing would have returned him to the glory of his youth. Draco Malfoy wasn't the man he used to be—he was nothing more than a shell now.

"We're too old for this, Draco." Hermione said, her hand pressing against his gently. She tried to unwind the fingers but his grip turned almost desperate.

"Don't speak to me like I'm an invalid, Granger." He paused and a curious smirk passed over his face. "Or is it Weasley now? Didn't think you could get lower than _mudbl—" _Before he could finish the word and pale hand pressed down hard against his shoulder and Hermione watched as Malfoy tried to contain a wince.

"Malfoy! It hasn't been long enough." George Weasley said merrily, though there was an edge to his voice. The lone twin had been subdued after the death of his brother but Ron had done wonders for him. Her husband had worked at the Weasley twins shop until George came out of his stupor, convincing him that their establishment was what the world needed, especially after so much loss.

George was as still as mischievous as he was when they were back at school—even Fred's untimely death couldn't break him for too long. He claimed that he had to keep at it twice as hard now that his brother had moved on to greener pastures. Still, Hermione caught him looking to his left every once in a while—lost and melancholy.

"Get your hands off me." Draco spat, and Hermione took the moment of distraction to pull her wrist from Malfoy's tense grip.

"But of course." George released him with a slight shove and Malfoy stumbled to the side. He stalked off, his hair glistening under the store lights.

"All okay, Hermione?" His voice was gentler, bereft of the usual nonchalance.

She nodded as she pulled her wrist into her robe. She'd have to heal the bruise that would no doubt appear on her too pale skin before Ron saw it. Otherwise, they'd be spending the next few years visiting him in Azkaban for illegal human transfiguration.

"Just fine." She smiled before looking around curiously. "Where are the girls?"

"Trespassing, I think." He replied, proud as ever of his twin daughters. They could have given Fred and George a run for their money.

"How…delightful."

"Isn't it, though?"

Before Hermione could answer she felt a familiar warmth behind her. Ron placed a hand across her shoulder, squeezing lightly before dipping down to her ear.

"You okay?" His breath was sinfully warm and Hermione resisted the urge to shiver at the heat. Not trusting her voice, she nodded before passing her hand over his.

"I'm _fine_, little brother," George remarked airily, "thanks _ever_ so much for asking."

"Wasn't too concerned, to be honest George." Ron replied, his face stretching into a handsome grin.

"Right, next time your _wife_ is about to get her hand clawed off, I'll just leave her be, shall I?" He winked at Hermione before walking past Ron, but not before pausing to tousle his hair.

"What's he talking about?"

"Nothing—nothing at all." Hermione said quietly. She pressed her lips into the soft skin of his neck. "Just Malfoy."

Ron tensed behind her, starting to pull away. "I'm going to kill him."

"You will not!" Hermione spun around, gripping his hands to her, desperately.

"Come on, Hermione—it's not like anyone's going to miss him." He justified, hastily.

"Ron!"

"Hermione!"

And from there, things went as they always had. Some things _never_ changed.

_Fin._


End file.
